A Broken Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste...

My mind is broken. If I had a broken arm, the allusion would be immediately understood. But I have a mental illness, depression. A recent statistic stated that 25 percent of Canadians suffer from a mental illness. The stigma attached to mental illness I must say is depressing. I have lost friends and family. I have lost my home and my financial freedom because I am unable to control my mind. It goes where it wants to when it wants to. It is not a matter of self-discipline as some would believe. I would prefer not to spend days on the couch or in bed unable to move or to act in any proactive way. It is like asking a blind man to see. He cannot. He wants to but no matter how hard he tries, his eyes are suddenly not going to see. I cannot turn my mind off and become cheerful, active and a productive member of this world.
It is a long slow and disheartening process. I must do it on my own.
There is a severe lack of empathy for mental illness. Especially it seems for depression. The easy solution is to take a pill. But meds don't always work. Or they do work but with horrific side effects. What works best for me is to embrace the depression and ride the waves of bleakness and melancholy until they pass over me and wash out to sea.
Unfortunately, those around me cannot wait this out with me. It is not fair that they put their lives on hold while I try to get mine back in order. I make and have made many bad decisions while in the throes of my depression. When I wake up from the fog, I then have to deal with the consequences of what I have done. Then I can only hope to repair some of the damage and try not to any more.
So, in short, I suffer from depression. I am dealing with it on my own. It is a daily struggle but I believe that I will prevail. I can count only on myself to take care of myself and get me through this and to the other side. I can be healthy and happy and I can do this myself.

Mourning Doves/My Kitchen Buddha

Mourning Doves

Rain slips down the green shimmering tree
Silver mourning doves endure the rain
Dreaming of sun-washed days
With soft murmurs;they wait out the storm


My Kitchen Buddha

All serene all watching all smiling
Sitting on his shelf he watches
The rice burn
The kettle boil
The dirty dishes
The sun on the glass
Th cats quarrel
The oranges shrivel
All serene all seeing all knowing

Welcome to the World...

I just deleted almost a full post of writing. Why? Because it was all bullshit. It was not honest, it was trying to deflect my anger and despair away and rationalize the behaviour of others. I was self-censoring myself, something that I swore that I would never ever do again in my writings. So the Hell with the sensibilities of anyone who may read this. I am no longer going to write as though they are looking over my shoulder and frowning with disapproval at what they see.
I just came home from a long and brutal work shift on a holiday. With extra hours with no extra pay. That ended in complete disaster. Now I am going to be the kind of person that I am. Real, happy, funny, sad, cynical, brave, lazy, hard-working, curious, kind, optimistic and human.
Welcome to the World, me.